Under Cerulean Skies
by pellaz
Summary: Nikki says his goodbyes to Serge.


  
UNDER CERULEAN SKIES  
  
A Chrono Cross fanfic  
  
STOP! The fic you are about to read has three warnings attached to it. One: This story is about the love between two boys, namely, Serge and Nikki of Chrono Cross. Two: This is a purely hypothetical situation. I doubt it could happen in the real Chrono Cross world because the flow of time has been restored and.... yeah. Also, I'm making it seem as if Serge has all of his memories. It seemed as if he did at the end, but Schala said he wouldn't, so this is just artistic license on my part. Three: This contains spoilers for the ending of Chrono Cross. Please don't read if you haven't gotten the 'good' ending (without New Game+); you should play it yourself, because it is very very good.  
  
*****  
  
"Good morning, Serge!"  
  
Light speared his eyes from an opened window, burning past the defense of his eyelids and forcing him to slowly acknowledge the world of the living once again. Serge groaned and tossed a pillow over his face. "Leave me alone, Mom...." he muttered, yelping when the covers were yanked off his body and the pillow snatched away.  
  
"Aw, Mom!"  
  
"Get up, lazy," Marge said firmly, hiding her smile as her son glared up at her. "The sun's been up for an hour now. You're not a little boy anymore, Serge, sleeping in 'til noon. Now come on, I have breakfast fixed."  
  
Serge grumbled, but it was good-natured; he knew when the battle was lost. He scooted to the edge of the bed and stretched extravagantly, releasing a jaw-cracking yawn as he did so. All of this was done purposefully slowly.  
  
Marge rolled her eyes. "Don't dawdle," she tossed over her shoulder, walking out of the room and down the stairs.  
  
"'Don't dawdle,'" Serge mumbled under his breath, reaching for his shirt. He pulled it on over his shorts, then took his bandana from under his pillow and fastened it on his head. He looked at his shoes and made a face. He'd put those on later, he decided, and ran down the stairs to the smell of honeyed fish and warm bread.  
  
"Good morning, Mom," he said to Marge, kissing her cheek. Serge took his place at the table and waited for his mother to sit down across from him before digging into his food.  
  
"Leena needs help babysitting her younger siblings this morning," Marge said, sipping her drink. Serge looked up from his plate and waited for her to continue. "She asked me to ask you if you'd mind helping her. You know things have been tight for her family ever since Miguel disappeared...." Marge clucked her tongue. "I only had you to take care of after Wazuki died, but Leena's mother has several children. I pity her...."  
  
Serge shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The panther's fierce scream was always in the back of his mind, and he didn't want to remember the heat of its breath on his skin, the feel of its sharp teeth on his arm, the incredible pain... Nor did he want to remember the person his father had become after they had returned from the Sea of Eden. "Yeah," he said briskly, "it's no problem. I'm always willing to help Leena."  
  
Marge smiled faintly at him. "I know you are. You're a good boy." She sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm being a little melancholy this morning."  
  
Serge shrugged. "Everybody gets a little sad sometimes."  
  
"That's very true. Are you done with this?" At his nod, she took up his plate and hers and took them to the sink. As she began washing, she said, "Finish getting dressed and then meet Leena at Opassa Beach, okay? Don't be late this time," she added, giving him a wry glance.  
  
Serge grinned sheepishly.  
  
*****  
  
Opassa Beach was deserted when he got there. Serge sighed and propped his Sea Swallow on a rock, then sat down in the sand to wait. Opassa Beach had always been a source of comfort for him.... a steady, ever-present entity, where there was just him, the sound of the waves crashing against the beach, and the smell of salt water clinging to his nose. It was fitting, then, that Opassa Beach had been the start of it all.... the 'Angelus Errare.' Serge smiled to himself at that familiar term.  
  
*Where did it all begin, Serge? Where do angels lose their way? Find it, Serge....*  
  
He missed everyone in that place, in that other world, and often thought of them. Did they think of him as well? Or did they go on about their lives as if nothing had ever happened? Serge liked to think that he had changed their lives as much as they--every one of them--had changed his. And yet, living his life in this small village, and sitting here listening to the sound of the waves, he sometimes doubted it.  
  
"Serge!" Leena's voice, breathy from exertion, jerked him out of his reverie. She stood in front of him, panting. "Sorry," Leena said apologetically. "I got kind of side-tracked. The kids are at the harbor. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit." She sat next to him. "Doesn't this remind you of that time a month ago? When you fainted?"  
  
Serge smiled at the thought. *You have no idea.*  
  
Leena set her chin on her knees. Her blue eyes were unusually dark as she stared out at the waves. "Sometimes I wonder what's going to happen to us, Serge...." she said. "Will we turn out just like our parents? Get married, have kids. Will you become a fisherman, I wonder, like our dads? What's the point of our life, here in this tiny little village...? Are we making any difference at all?"  
  
*Stop,* Serge wanted to say. She was sounding too much like his own doubts--*Who am I? Why am I here? Have I ever truly existed?*--for his comfort.  
  
She seemed to sense his discomfort, for she tossed her head and forced a laugh. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just being weird. I don't know what's come over me." She stood and brushed sand from her skirt. "C'mon, let's go back."  
  
Serge nodded and began to stand up.  
  
*Serge....*  
  
He froze and looked around. Leena placed her hand on his shoulder, eyes wide with concern. "Serge?" she asked. "Are you all right?"  
  
*Serge!*  
  
Roaring sound in his ears, feeling of his body being torn apart, colors swirling around him. Serge opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He was falling what seemed like a great distance--falling, falling--and even though he recognized what was happening to him, that didn't stop it from being any less disconcerting. With a thump, he fell on his knees in the sands of Opassa Beach and crouched there, gasping for breath.  
  
"Serge!"  
  
Serge sat up slowly. His stomach protested even that movement, but he ignored the discomfort--he *recognized* that voice. "N-Nikki.....?" he said disbelievingly.  
  
A hand on his shoulder, warm, comforting. Serge looked up, and it *was* Nikki, Nikki's kohl-rimmed eyes looking back at him, Nikki's painted mouth curving into a beatific smile, Nikki's arms coming around him in a welcome embrace and Nikki's hands grasping his hair.  
  
"*Nikki!*"  
  
Serge embraced the musician back, hardly believing what was happening to be true, but Nikki was as solid a presence in his arms as he had been during their voyages together. He even smelled the same--a mixture of apples and herbs and some faint, spicy scent Serge had never been able to identify.  
  
Finally Serge pulled away, and they were both laughing. "How did you--?" Serge asked, and Nikki shook his head, smiling mysteriously.  
  
"Don't ask," he said, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm not even sure myself. Somebody helped me out."  
  
Serge had a vague idea who the 'somebody' was, and he closed his eyes briefly. *Thanks, Kid.* Then he opened them again and smiled at his former lover. "I've missed you," Serge said.  
  
Nikki's smile turned tender. "I've missed you too," he said, reaching out to cup Serge's face. "Things haven't been the same since you left."  
  
"What've you been doing?"  
  
Nikki led him to the rock he'd been sitting on with Leena just moments before, and they rested against it, shaded and comfortable. "Not much," Nikki said with a slight shrug. "We--Marcy and me--were invited to stay with Fargo on the S. S. Invincible. Marcy complained like hell, but in the end, she stayed. Since then, we've just been roaming around... And you?"  
  
Serge grinned wryly. "Sleeping a lot," he confessed. "Not much else to do in my village."  
  
Nikki's face turned serious. "Look," he said. "We haven't got much time. This is only a temporary time distortion, one that won't last for very long. I just wanted to be able to say.... that I love you and I've missed you." He bit his lip and looked down at the ground.  
  
Serge felt his eyes grow moist, and had to quickly blink back the tears before they could fall. They'd been together for a long time in the Other world, but neither of them had ever talked about love; it had been a relationship of comfort, at first, and only later had affectionate feelings developed. He leaned forward and ran his fingers through Nikki's soft hair, then grasped Nikki's jaw and forced the musician to look at him. "I love you, too," Serge said quietly, and brushed his lips against Nikki's. Nikki's mouth opened beneath his and he took immediate advantage, in the meantime wrapping his arms around Nikki and pressing him, very gently, into the sand.  
  
When they pulled apart, Nikki laughed breathlessly and ran his thumb over Serge's lips. "You've got lipstick on your mouth," he teased.  
  
Serge raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" he retorted. "Well, *your* lipstick's smeared." He leaned down and kissed Nikki again. "Now it's all gone," he said, grinning.  
  
"Funny," Nikki pouted.  
  
Serge pulled him into his arms, and Nikki rested his head on Serge's shoulder. "We'll never see each other again," Nikki murmured, tracing designs on Serge's back. "But we'll always have our memories."  
  
"Always," Serge agreed.  
  
"I'm going to write a song about you."  
  
"Really? Your groupies might not be too happy about that."  
  
"Fuck my groupies."  
  
"I hope not."  
  
Nikki hit him playfully. "Like I ever would! God," he said, shuddering. "It'd be like screwing a cow or something."  
  
"That's not nice, Nikki."  
  
"Yeah, well...." Nikki said. "But enough banter. I came here to see you one last time, not talk about my groupies." He ran his fingers along the waistband of Serge's pants.  
  
Serge raised an eyebrow, then kissed the top of his head. "Get right to the point, don't you," he said, voice muffled.  
  
"I like to think so." Nikki pulled away so that he could look into Serge's eyes; his face was serious, hooded and thrown into shadow. "I love you," he said. "You'll always be the one I love, even if I grow up to have fifty children."  
  
Serge smiled gently. "I'll love you always, as well."  
  
******  
  
"Good morning, Serge!"  
  
Serge awoke with a start. *Nikki....?* He sat up, rubbing his eyes briefly, and said to his mother, with no trace of sleepiness in his voice, "Where am I?"  
  
"You're home, Serge," Marge said, leaning down and pressing the back of her hand to Serge's forehead. "You fainted again yesterday, on the beach with Leena. She was worried sick. You've been conked out all night. Serge, have you been feeling all right lately?"  
  
"Fine, Mom," Serge sighed. *Was it all just a dream, then....?* "Go on downstairs, I'll be down in a while."  
  
His mother smiled and tactfully left the room.  
  
Serge put his head in his hands and willed himself not to cry. *I miss you so much, Nikki.* Sighing shakily, he began to strip out of his dirty clothes--and froze when a piece of paper fell from his pocket. With trembling fingers, he leaned down and picked it up. It was nothing but a dirty scrap of paper, the ink slightly smudged, but Serge held it to his nose and breathed in anways. Apples and herbs, and that faint, undefinable scent. Serge smiled as a tear ran down his face.  
  
//Serge,  
  
When you wake up, you may wonder if it was all a dream. Even it if it was, hold it to your heart and cherish it. I will do the same, and perhaps, through the combined strength of our memory, we will be able to look back on those last moments we had together and view them as if they happened yesterday.   
  
All of your friends in the other world miss you and send their regards. Kid.... Marcy.... Karsh.... Glenn.... my father.... you made a difference in our lives and in the flow of time, Serge. Never forget that. Never forget who you are.  
  
I love you. I will never forget you. Our brief time together was worth more to me than anything else in this world. You showed me happiness. You *were* my happiness. Please don't forget me.  
  
I'll write that song for you, and I swear, it'll be my greatest hit. All my groupies will love it and sing and dance to it, and while they'll never know who it was written for--heh, maybe for the better--I always will.  
  
Have a rockin' life!  
  
Love, yours always,  
  
Nikki.//  
  
Serge stared at the note, willing more words to appear, willing Nikki to appear. His throat was tight, his eyes moist, but he refused to cry.  
  
*I won't cry, Nikki,* he vowed. *I'll remember our time with happiness, because you were my happiness, too.*  
  
*Ai shiteru, Nikki. Zutto.*  
  
*****  
  
But, for a certainty, back then, we loved so many, yet hated so much,  
Hurt others and were hurt ourselves....  
  
Yet even then, we ran like the wind,  
Whilst our laughter echoed  
Under cerulean skies....  
  
*****  
  
Author's Comments (spoilerish)  
  
Mmmm... This fic was written on a whim, after I got the 'good' ending of Chrono Cross. Chrono Cross is a great game, but the ending saddened me. If Serge lost his memories of everything that happened, then what was the point of his whole journey? To free one person, Schala? On that journey, he learned who he was. He was born for a purpose, which he fulfilled on his adventures, and then he just FORGETS IT ALL? ....Anyways, that's what Schala said. But Serge seems not to have lost all his memories. A little confusing. I also thought it was sad that the other party members would never see him again. ....Of course, then there's the theory that the dimensions might have merged. I prefer to think not, because it just.... doesn't work that way.... and they would have merged immediately after you restored the flow of time, not giving anybody time to say goodbye to Serge, which they did. Ah, confusing.  
  
ANYWAY, to get back to my original point, this was written very quickly (in an hour or so), and it's probably not my best piece of work, but it's not horrible. Comments would be appreciated. ^_^  
  
Keruri.  
  
  
  



End file.
